Primordial: An Abstraction

55

I feel like I’ve lost something. Myself perhaps. Or somebody else. The rub is: Who is the Father dictating the angle of this adamantine repose?

The professor is explaining what we need to do for our upcoming essays. I don’t understand what he means. I raise my hand. He calls on me.

I say, “So should we include a title page?”

The professor says, “No. As I pointed out about fifteen seconds ago, don’t include a title page.”

I say, “So no title page?”

The professor says, “No. No title page.”

I say, “All right. No title page.”

The professor says, “Yes. No title page.”

I say, “I just want to be clear. You don’t want a title page, right? Is that what you mean?”

The professor says, “That’s right. No. I don’t want a title page. That is precisely what I mean.”

I say, “All right.”

The professor says, “All right.”

I say, “Why?”

The professor says, “What?”

I say, “Why? Why don’t you want a title page? It introduces things, like.”

The professor says, “Title pages are superfluous. A waste of space. And paper. Center your title at the top of the first page of your essay.”

I say, “Center the title at the top of the first page of my essay. Right?”

The professor says, “Right. Center your title at the top of the first page of your essay.”

I nod. Then I say, “Will we get points taken off if we include a title page? I’m only curious.”

The professor looks at me.

I say, “Professor? Are you ok? You’re just looking at me. Should I repeat my question?”

The professor says, “Again, no title pages. You shouldn’t include a title page. There shouldn’t be one. Don’t include one. Don’t include a title page. I don’t want you to. Don’t do it. No title page. Don’t do it.”

I say, “Don’t do it.”

The professor says, “Holy Christ.”

I say, “But let’s say we do it. Include a title page, I mean. Hypothetically, like. Will points be taken off?”

The professor says, “Whoever fights monsters—“

I interrupt, “Don’t give me that Nietzsche shit. Everybody quotes that one anyway. Articulating that aphorism is more of an indication of a lack of erudition than an assertion of epistemological prowess. I’m talking about a title page.”

The professor says, “Somber is human life, and as yet without meaning: a buffoon may be fateful to it.”

I say, “That’s a little better. But Nietzsche is really off-limits. Too commercial. If you want to sound smart, quote somebody like Feuerbach or Binswanger. Only real scholars know who they are. But I find it troubling that you can’t come to grips with this title page debacle. I mean, for God’s sake, who cares? It’s not a big deal. I have ideas for fonts and so forth and you’re really throwing a ratchet in my machinery here. I just want my essay to look as good as it can. A title page can make things look sharp, you know? Well.” There’s something else I want to say but I can’t remember what it is.

The professor says, “The abyss.”

I say, “That doesn’t make any sense. Speak in complete sentences. That’s a fragment.”

The professor remains silent.

I say, “I assume your silence means a title page is ok. What else could your silence mean? Nothing.”

The professor remains silent.

“Sir? Hey, you. You there. What the fuck are you doing? C’mon. Seriously? C’mon. No? Yes? Ok. All right. Yes or no. Don’t answer that. It wasn’t a question anyway. No. All right. Well. Well. Thank you, sir.”

The professor remains silent.

I turn to the rest of the class and say, “Do you hear that? Title pages are ok. Go ahead and include one if you want to. Or don’t. It’s up to you. It’s always been up to you. Nothing else matters but subjectivity and the unique arc of the human spirit.”